Rooftop Secrets
by Braids21
Summary: Slash, Javid. To the untrained eye, Jack and David were simply best friends. But under the cover of darkness, who knows what secrets they could be hiding? Post-strike based.


**Rooftop Secrets**

**Disclaimer:** Slash. Don't like it? Don't read it! I do not own anything Newsies related either.

**A/N:** I LIVEEEEE. More from me afterwards. :) Oh, and a big THANK YOU to my loverly beta, Misprint.

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The crisp October night air caused me to shiver, yet I didn't feel cold. Laying in Jack's lap was heaven. This was the time I loved spending with him. True, nothing beat the friction between us when we kissed, but this was just as good.

From the relative safety of my apartment building's rooftop, late at night, Jack and I were able to obtain some quality alone time together. Lying there after our nightly escapades, we were fairly quiet. Jack daydreamed, looking up to the stars, and occasionally taking a puff of smoke, and I simply watched him. From this nightly ritual, I realized just how much my best friend meant to me. I may be young and quite inexperienced, but I knew in my heart that this feeling was love.

Although I knew that I loved him, I kept it quiet. Our relationship was a complicated one. I don't think I could even consider it a relationship, but simply a hidden secret. To the untrained eye, Jack and I were simply best friends. But under the cover of darkness, we explored each other's bodies, lust completely controlling us.

One theme remained constant: we did not talk about our nightly rooftop meetings no matter where we were, not even in the sanctuary of the roof. I was perfectly fine with the secrecy around the newsies; I knew what could happen if this bit of information was to become public knowledge. However, I was not happy with the other part of our unspoken agreement. Did Jack feel the same for me as I did for him? Did we even have a relationship? Those questions, plus a million others, had been on the tip of my tongue every night, itching to be asked in the silence that followed our lust-filled antics. I feared the consequences of asking what was burning in my mind, as it broke our unstated contract. But, like it does for most people, my curiosity got the best of me that late October night.

We had finished a while ago, but were still lying together up on the roof. Jack was leaning against the wall, and I was positioned in between his legs, my head resting on his chest. One of Jack's hands held his cigarette and the other was gently placed in my own. Even though Jack was holding my hand, he always seemed to forget I existed. In contrast, I knew everything about him at that moment, down his heart rate. It was at that moment, so close to him physically, yet so distant emotionally, that I knew I needed to break the silent tension.

Taking a deep breath, I quietly whispered his name. Not surprisingly, he did not respond. I took another stab at it, this time a bit more forceful, and I got the result I wanted.

"What is it Davey?" Jack asked cautiously.

"What are we?" I questioned, those three words full of such weight.

He took a drag of his cigarette and blew out the smoke before responding with "…What do you mean?" although he knew full well what I was asking.

He wanted to make me say it. "Well," I took a breath, "are we simply just friends, or is there something else to this… _thing_… we have going on between us?" I inquired, all in one breath.

"I ain't queer if that's what you're asking," Jack retorted as soon as I was finished speaking.

My reply was immediate. "Oh no, I'm not either… no… I guess I just…" I trailed off, gulping, in fear that Jack knew I was lying.

"Then why did you even bring it up?" Jack muttered angrily, before pulling his hand out of its embrace with my own hand.

We lapsed back into the all-too-familiar silence. The only sound heard was Jack's inhales and exhales as he smoked. The subject was closed; the unspoken agreement remained intact, even though it was slightly damaged. Yet again, my feelings were left in the dust, with Jack ruining any chance I had of ever being honest with him.

We still had some physical contact; I was still positioned between Jack's legs. But the touch I longed for was Jack's fingers entwined with mine. His unoccupied hand now rested dully on the rooftop. Silence continued for a few more painfully long minutes. This time, it was Jack who broke it. Jack crushed his cigarette butt into the ground, our signal for the end of the night, and immediately began stretching his legs.

"I gotta go, it's gettin' late," he remarked dryly, no emotion in his voice.

I slowly shifted out of Jack's way, and he swiftly stood up. Brushing off his pants and pulling his suspenders up, Jack mumbled, "I'll see ya in the morning, Dave. 'Night," and began making his way over to the fire escape.

His quick exit was not common. Normally, we wound up kissing again before he made his way back down to the streets, or at least staying huddled together, delaying his return to the lodging house. I watched him walk away from me, completely crushed. One stupid question, and I managed to mess up whatever we had. I didn't want him to go, not like this.

"I love you Jack," I whispered into the air, three simple words flying out of my mouth before I even really had a chance to process the weight of them. I had not planned on reveling my true feelings, especially not that night, but now there they were, out in the open. I prayed Jack did not hear my whispered confession, but unfortunately, he did.

Jack instantly stopped in his tracks and faced me. He stared at me with wide eyes, speechless for almost a minute, while I was frozen in my spot on the ground, not daring to break eye contact with him.

Jack's unsteady voice stammered, "Did you just say what I think you said?"

No matter how much I wanted to deny it, save that confession for another day, I couldn't. I was finally being truthful about my feelings, and was ready to face whatever consequences Jack threw in my face.

"Yeah," I mumbled, nodding my head.

His eyes darted to the ground, as he sighed loudly. He ran his hands through his hair and kicked at the rooftop, trying desperately to figure out what to say.

I chose this opportunity to gently stand and speak my mind. "Jack, I… I meant what I said. I want a relationship with you, not just causal sex night after night. I want to be able to make love to you," I rambled on, gaining confidence in my speech as it went on. "It will still be hidden, but I want a real relationship, one that is based on love, not lust."

For the first time that night, a faint smile played on Jack's lips. "I always knew you had a way with words," Jack sighed, a hint of remembrance in his voice. But it was gone just as quick. "…But you just had to talk 'bout it, didn't you? I ain't queer, I told you that already. I ain't gonna settle down with you, nor any other guy," he stated, a bit rushed.

"Jack, I'm not asking you to…"

He cut me off. "Dave, enough. This… _us_… it's gone too far. Love or not, it needs to end."

I felt like the wind was knocked out of me. "You can't be serious," I croaked, choking on my words.

He nodded in acknowledgment. "I'd been thinkin' about it a lot. I ain't supposed to be with you. I ain't queer," he barely whispered the latter part for the third time that night.

I didn't believe him, and felt he was just trying to prove to himself that he wasn't. But there wasn't anything I could do to convince him otherwise. I sighed in response.

We stood facing each other awkwardly for a minute or two longer, before Jack tried to ease the tension.

"Davey, I'm sorry, but… I can't," he muttered, his voice cracking on the last word.

I couldn't stand it any longer. "Just go," I murmured gently.

He quickly said he'd see me in the morning, and began to descend the down to the streets. Watching his hasty retreat down the fire escape, I wished I could restart the entire conversation. I said what was on my mind, what I had been wanting to say for a long time, but the reaction was not what I had expected. Maybe I shouldn't have said everything all at once, but was done was done.

Jack and I still sold papers together after that, but our friendship was never quite the same. We never mentioned that night, or any of the other rooftop encounters, but the tension was blatant and painful to deal with.

I sit here now, remembering what might have been. That entire conversation replays in my mind constantly. Jack was right, I do have a way with words. Yet this time, my 'walking mouth' was not used in a good way like it had been during the strike. Instead, it caused more damage than it was worth.

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**A/N:** wooooot, I live. One full year of fanfic hiatus. It's good to be back. Anywho, ya'll know the drill. Reviews are extremely appreciated, so click the button and review!

**- Braids**

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